Agony and Ecstasy

I so wish that I had the time right now to respond individually to each of your comments.  They have all been absolutely amazing and your generosity has already astounded us.  We heard from the Compassion office that yesterday was the highest day of child sponsorship of any Compassion blogger trip.  A great number of you from the LPM blog were a part of that and I wanted your joy to be complete today knowing that piece of information.  It is an exciting thing that our blog community has already proved this week to be a small yet significant part of a massive effort to release children from poverty.  Each and every child counts. One of my favorite comments from yesterday’s post was from Donna who had never heard of Compassion International until this week.  She searched for a Compassion child to sponsor- one with her same birthday and with asthma, a struggle Donna herself has also dealt with during her own lifetime.  That Donna was looking for a child with whom she could connect with really conveyed that she understood the heart of Compassion, the relationship between the child and sponsor. 

On to today.  This morning as I walked down to breakfast I noticed that two of our team members were missing, Spence and Anne.  Let’s just say that the spicy food, jet-lag, and 120 degree heat index finally got to them and so they had to stay behind for the day with a certain porcelain friend, or adversary, depending upon which way you want to spin it.  Pete was up all night running to the bathroom as well but came with us to the project anyhow.  He actually passed out during one of the home visits. Poor thing.  He wants to show you the two essential things every person must bring on a trip to India:

A Bible and a roll of toilet paper.  Poor guy.  He still had a smile on his face, though. Total trooper. He said he kept begging the Lord to take away the pain last night.  He kept telling Him, "I'll do anything for you to take it away. I'd even go to India." And then he was like, "Oh wait, I am in India."  Absolutely hilarious. But then he took a Cipro and turned around like a champ.

One of my fellow bloggers, Robin, asked me five days ago if I liked curry.  Grossly overestimating my passion for exotic multi-cultural foods, I exclaimed, “I love curry! I just can’t wait to eat the food in India.”  From the look on her face, I gathered quickly that she wasn’t so sure.  Well, let’s just say that the curry in the States ain’t the curry in India. I’m not exactly sure how it’s possible but curry and masala are incorporated into all three meals here- breakfast, lunch, and dinner.   Curry pancakes.  Curry chicken.  Curry fish.  And not to be forgotten are the delightful curried prawns.  Apparently the options for curry are never ending. Oh, and yesterday my roommate opened up a cabinet in our hotel room and noticed several bags of potato chips.  It was as if Etta James’ famous tune “At Last” immediately came over a loud speaker and started soothing our spirits.  Chips are totally my love language so I said, “Yay! What kind are they???”  And then there was a pause.  Come to find out our choices were Spicy Masala Remix and Red Chili Bijli.  Egads. I should have known.  I shouldn’t have set myself up for a broken heart.

But back to today.  We had an extremely intense day as we left our hotel located in the heart of the city and went on an hour and a half drive out into the countryside on a bus and then got off only to jump onto rickshaws that would take us thirty minutes deeper into the rural area where our project was located.  Two words for any woman riding on a rickshaw: sports bra.  Maybe even two.  I won’t elaborate but you should be fully warned in the event that you ever embark on this adventure.  We spun into a total time warp the further we descended toward our destination.  There were straw huts scattered through the lush green landscape and people carrying buckets of water they had just pumped out of their local water-well.  Check out some of the things we saw from our rickshaw:

It was absolutely wild.  I've never seen anything like it except maybe in the movies.  I asked our Compassion expert if the poverty was more extreme in the rural areas than the urban areas that we have previously been to and she explained to me that it isn't that they are worse but that they are different.  The rural areas are completely agriculturally based and so they rely completely on things like rice, which don't produce for six months out of the year and there simply isn't enough water for proper cultivation.  Because of these harsh conditions, the very survival of the children in this community is threatened.  In response, Compassion has instituted a project called the Child Survival Program.  This program starts with prenatal care for expectant mothers.  What is absolutely stunning is that these women rarely have left their own little shacks much less the village.  They are completely cut off from the rest of the world so they have no idea how to care for their own child.  They themselves are incredibly unhealthy because of their socially inferior status.  They basically just get the leftovers after a meal.  This program provides them with supplemental nutrition and teaches them the basics of caring for their baby.  For example, they learn how to prepare food for their baby, what vaccinations their baby needs, and even how to bathe their baby with the cleanest water possible.  It is an absolutely incredible ministry.  

Here is a picture of the Moms with their babies lined up waiting to greet us:

This precious woman told us that the reason she loves the Child Survival Program so much is that she hears stories about Jesus.  She says that she loves to hear what He says about her.  The theology of human worth and dignity that is so essential to the Christian message is so desperately needed in a country like India that is primarily Hindu.  Compassion helps to instill a sense of meaning and purpose that is so crucial for these women:

Just my perspective:

More beautiful children. I look like Casper the Friendly Ghost next to them. Hey, Keely, can you please photoshop a tan in for me next time? 

The picture below is taken of Sabita Parui and her child Bishan Parui.  We asked Sabita what her favorite thing about the Compassion program was and she told us that before she got involved with Compassion she could not read or write.  But now she can sign her name herself. And her favorite story about Jesus is the wedding at Cana in the gospel of John.  

When I was roaming around the Compassion offices in Calcutta I noticed the first section of their mission statement.  It goes like this:  "I am the Compassion in East India.  The day I joined this country office, this office also become part of me.  I can feel it running through me in agony and ecstasy.  I am Compassion and Compassion is me."  These Compassion India folks are the real deal. They are in it for the long haul.  Needless to say, the poverty here is staggering and they are spiritually outnumbered by 95%.  That's right. The Christians here comprise less than 5% of the population.  Yet, they keep trucking.  Keep fighting in the name of love and for the sake of justice in spite of the agony.  I suppose the glory of feeding one more child in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ is just that sweet.